• Her purple eyes glazed over and she always had the same expression, never a hair out of place. During the day she was smiling, during the evening she bore a painful expression. Between the two times she was stunningly beautiful-as she always was. The girl was still around even after the world froze over and started a new. She didn’t often speak, but when she did her voice was as gentle and fleeting as wind-chimes. When the new people saw the girl with her odd colored eyes and white gold curls they called her a fairy. And often young men would follow her away from their homes. Never did anyone suspect she was dead. But sometimes she would whisper:
    “Tell him I love him.” And it cast a spell on all men, young and old alike, her magic still as strong as when she was alive. As time moved on science advanced and the belief in magic died, as did the spell on her tomb. Some ancient people believed her a god, others a demon, never was she suspected as human. She traveled all over the world watching events unroll. Around the 20th century she pretended to be human and tried living a normal human life. She enrolled for middle schools and lived a seemingly normal life. She excelled in history but failed in math and science miserably. But every few years she had to disappear again until her face was forgotten. Forever 14 she had to try her best to blend in., sometimes she changed her name, and boys drooled over the enchanting ghost. Around the year 2010 construction exposed her tomb, and there was news coverage that expanded through the world. Drawn by the news she went home, to a country called America, a state called California. The buzz over the odd building brought scholars from every corner of the planet. The girl found age old amusement in watching them explore her tomb. The pots constructed from what used to be called “magic” were assumed to be marble, but the stone was too soft to be such, something that caused much fuss. The crystals hanging from the ceiling were addressed as “swarski”. A month was spent exploring her tiny tomb, and much time spent removing her things from the “resting place”. She couldn’t have been pleased with that the amusement she got from watching them classify her things was worth it.
    “The tomb of a king or Queen, someone of importance.” Important? Had she been important? The girl didn’t know. What truly mystified the scientists was the vines that grew up from where her body rested, they were constantly in motion, larger than any other plant with thorns of monstrous size, and tore to shreds anything that stepped near her body. Scientists were mystified as how to get around them. The girl warned them by tossing a log into her plants and allowing them to watch it be reduced to saw dust. They went back to removing her things and explore a box of letters the scholars seemed to enjoy reading them but her life (since the belief in magic was gone) left little to be understood. The girl continued to get letters 40 years after her death. And what she addressed as her “private detectives” assumed them to be from some ancient civilization that believed the letters would be read. But why did the stop abruptly after the death of her closest friends and family. They would never know that her soul stayed around to continue living even after the body became useless, that the girl guarded her loved ones after it was no longer physically possible. Finally the scientists made another attempt to gather the body, the vines that guarded her were powerful but they were still plants, they were poisoned and slowly they wilted and died. But the body left them as little as the letters. More complex even was the fact that on her wrist was a ribbon and a rose, looking as though they had been put there yesterday. After work that day two scholars were walking home, one of them commented: “This project is turning into a ghost story”. Taking advantage of the situation the girl made herself visible to them. And not losing a minute she giggled, walked by them, turned and flashed a smile before disappearing. The two partners were taken to the hospital having gone crazy from “Hallucinations”. The mystery couldn’t be unraveled until a girl of 16, the daughter of one of the scholars brought a picture to him. She had found it in her text booking the picture was the face of a girl with white gold curls and violet eyes. The exact face (in color) that the scientists had predicted their skeleton had worn while alive. But the picture was created 400 years after it was predicted that the skeleton had been alive, so more pictures were gathered. Some were millennia apart, some from opposite sides of the world, yet they all had something in common, the face of a girl. A girl with violet eyes and white gold curls. The face of that girl was portrayed the same way, one time after another. One picture was of a British noble man’s daughter, another of an Asian goddess. But the most disturbing of all were a colored year book photo... from the previous year. Anxious the scholars set the paintings, carvings, and other things aside ands decided to reread the letters. By mistake a female scientist, moved by a letter read it aloud:
    “…but I still love you. Miranda told me, she apologized for not doing do sooner…” The words struck the ghosts heart, and she was suddenly visible to the scholars. And they were scared, the very girl they had been studying, standing there, next to her skeleton. The girl has white gold curls and violet eyes. She was crying, and laughing, and yelling.
    “Tell him I love him.” She repeated, after all these years she was finally free. And soon the laughter was joined by other voices, and the girl was no longer alone.
    Over-joyed to have her back, they cried. And Elizabeth was finally free, gone home, The project was immediately discontinued. 14 years later a baby was born, with beautiful violet eyes.
    Abbey quickly put down her book and rolled her eyes. She wasn’t sure why her sister had recommended it to her, but she read the whole thing none the less. It was far too much fiction for her. Things like that could never happen. Most of all Abbey was upset because she wanted to be a scientist when she got older and she disliked how the book mocked them.
    “Hey, ready to go?” Sam, Abbey’s sister knocked on the bedroom door and pushed it open shyly. Seeing that she had finished the book she asked:
    “Did you like it?” Abbey shrugged and grabbed her purse, she was attending an art fair with her sister, she wasn’t a fan of art but Sam was. Once they arrived at the festival Sam went straight to the painting, Abbey slugged along behind her, very bored. It was half hour of torture for Abbey until they came to the portraits in which Sam was very interested. Abbey had to admit that they were good, but her attention was too focused on a particular painting to look at anything else. The portrait at the top left was of a girl, probably 14; the girl had fair skin, platinum curls, and oddly colored, eyes. The portrait at the top left was of a girl with white gold curls and violet eyes. While Sam talked to the artist the picture smiled. It was a mocking smile. Abbey clapped her hand over her mouth.
    “Um…excuse me but who is that?” Abbey said turning to the artist, she pointed to the picture witch had resumed it original stoic position. The old man chuckled.
    “Why that’s my granddaughter. She was born 14 years ago. She’s a very smart girl, but she seems reluctant to fall in love.” Abbey rubbed her temple and fled to the lunch pavilion to wait for her sister.